


The Warlock And His King

by BlackPetals4



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Code Geass R1 Episode 1, Friendship, Geass, Gen, Immortal Lelouch, Kururugi Suzaku & Lelouch Lamperouge Friendship, Lelouch as CC, Nunnally vi Britannia (mentioned) - Freeform, Pre-Shinjuku Arc, Racism, Role Reversal, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackPetals4/pseuds/BlackPetals4
Summary: Suzaku finds himself in a slightly different situation after finding that truck and sets out to change the story that hatred wrote.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	The Warlock And His King

Private Suzaku Kururugi had a bad day. Certainly not the worst day in his life (no, this honor went to the day he decided the war for his father and every single one of his countrymen) but still horrible enough.

First, someone had stolen a part of his uniform, his only one, and he had to find it before the routine inspection in the morning. Which had meant no breakfast for him. When he had finally found it, it had been soaked in toilet water and there had been no time to wash it out and dry it before he had to put it on. Seeing him shiver in his soggy clothes reeking disgustingly of piss, his superior officer had seen it fit to yell at him for his ‘improper conduct’ and subsequently punish him with latrine duty. Suzaku had seen the man’s nasty smile at the mention of his punishment and concluded that he most likely knew exactly what had happened to his uniform. Now at least, it was dry, even if the smell was getting progressively worse.

His unit, composed solely of Honorary Britannians, had been ordered out to capture some terrorists and secure the poison gas they had stolen. Orders were to search the tunnels under the city for the criminals. Currently, he was clearing a section alone, slinking around in the dark, damp tunnels. Relics of a time long past and the perfect escape route for fleeing criminals. Again, no time to wash his clothes before heading out. At this rate the terrorists would detect him by smell first. Not that he would ever complain. He just sometimes wished he was merely another face in the crowd, another nameless Honorary serving in the army as glorified cannon fodder to gain some basic human rights or support his family. Alas, his superior officers were all too aware of his last name and his former status as Genbu Kururugi’s heir and loved to remind him how much they didn’t give a shit. Or rather, they did, and that’s why they took pleasure in his humiliation.

He had been the crown prince of Japan in all but name. His father’s title of Prime Minister would have been passed down to him since he had no siblings, only cousins and other more distantly related family. This didn’t mean he wouldn’t have had to prove himself worthy of the title. The Imperial Diet had passed the constitutional changes necessary elevate his family’s status not too long before his own time. They’d had powerful allies backing them, especially from within the Sakuradite industry, and had expanded their connections through marriage and ruthless politics.

When it became clear that the big superpowers wouldn’t stop expanding their territory anytime soon, Japan needed to present a strong and united front. They needed a powerful figurehead representing their country. Because of this, the system had been changed rather radically to elevate the Prime Minister’s status, who had at that time been a Kururugi, his great-grandfather. The Emperor had lost all his remaining power, not that the Tenno had much of it left at this point. It had been more of a formality. The Japanese would have rejected the idea of a monarchy, but the Prime Minister and his Cabinet had had more of a chance to avoid the negative response of the populace simply because of their different name and previous function.

It did work for a few generations. Suzaku would have been raised to be the physical representation of Japan’s strength, values, ideals and culture. When he was younger, he had always hated the lessons on etiquette and politics, the physical part of his training was something he could enjoy much more. He had thought he would still have time for this later, and his father let him have more of his childhood in exchange for at least learning the basics and truly applying himself in his martial arts training with Tohdoh-sensei.

Of course, it had all come differently. Instead of observing and imitating the way his father gracefully navigated the international waters of politics as a symbol of their country’s might and perseverance, he got to see first-hand how conceited their view had been. Their importance in the great scheme of things was only measured in their resources and every major player had merely been waiting who would make a grab for them first.

Britannia had gotten a head-start with sending their children as political hostages to Japan. Nobody wanted to risk angering the world’s greatest superpower by attacking the island nation when Britannia’s royal children were in danger of dying in the war. Suzaku’s own family had assumed that the hostages would secure the relations with Britannia as well as their position in the Sakuradite conflict. Thus, Britannia had been able to prepare for war without their eventual target’s knowledge. Japan had paid the price for their arrogance. So had Lelouch and Nunnally. The two royals had nearly lost their lives in the first bombardment. Witnessing the ruthlessness and sheer horrifying disregard for the Emperor’s own children’s lives personally had shocked Suzaku more than his father’s denial of the hard facts. The Japanese would have lost the war either way. Fighting to the last man would have devastated the country only further, their soldiers would have been slaughtered and innocent civilians would have paid the price for the continued fighting. He had tried to argue, to make the Prime Minister see reason. And then his father had mentioned killing the hostages. 

Suzaku shook his head, unwilling to think of the distant past any longer. Eight years had passed since their inevitable loss and the world had moved on. So had he. The only way to achieve anything close to change for his people was to do so from within the system now firmly in place. If he had to work himself to the bone and endure the discrimination he faced daily as an Honorary Britannian to allow him to eventually better their situation, he would do so for however long it took without a word of complaint. It didn’t matter in the end how much he would have to lower himself so long as he could set an example and achieve his goals while keeping morals intact. Unlike those terrorists, he wouldn’t stoop so low as to needlessly endanger civilians. If they would just follow his way, maybe then they could get their county back bloodlessly. Sadly, nobody seemed to realize this, and he would have to fight against his own people to save innocent lives.

Sighing, Suzaku separated himself from the other soldier to explore the old tunnel system they had been deployed to search more thoroughly. The ways parted in front of them, and they would be done faster, even if it wasn’t as safe as going in a group. He was confident enough in his skills to take down some terrorists. Most of them didn’t have any formal training anyways. The tunnels were dark and damp. How anyone could even drive a truck down there was a mystery to him, because the floor was riddled with cracks and holes and occasionally even smaller pieces of debris. Had he been the driver, he would have had a hard time seeing all the hindrances ahead and avoiding getting stuck. He would have also gotten lost in the massive network of tunnels underlying the Ghettos surrounding the Tokyo Settlement.

To his embarrassment, he was a little lost in thought and therefore got startled rather badly when he suddenly heard a loud screech form ahead of him. It sounded like someone was desperately hitting the breaks of their car. Without thinking about it, his legs were already carrying him further down the tunnel. The deeper he went, the more he felt his excitement building. This was the chance for him to prove himself! He ran down some stairs and activated his visor’s targeting system.

Finally, he found what he had been searching for, a grey truck. The back was wide open, and he could detect no movement inside. He couldn’t believe his luck! Wasting no time, he informed his commanding officer of his find as professionally as possible. He smiled at the immediate positive response and the order to investigate. They needed confirmation that it was the right vehicle. He drew closer to the target as quickly and quietly as he could to procure more information on the current situation.

There was still nothing but silence. A quick check on the driver and Suzaku knew the man was dead or about to die in the next few minutes from his labored, rattling breaths and fading conscious. There would be no danger coming from him. Now he needed to check out the back of the truck and confirm that it was the right one. The strange capsule he had seen in passing when he went to the front would contain the poison gas he was briefed about; he was sure of it. It was round, somewhat egg-shaped, with thick steel bolts sticking out from all sides, sealing it tight. What else could such a capsule of odd form be used for? Cautious of the possible danger of a leak, he used his breathing mask. Then, he jumped into the truck to examine the cursed thing. He went a full circle around it but found no designation or warning sign. Other than a white coat hanging on a hook on the side wall of the truck with a communicator. Not the army standard issued, thus belonging to the terrorists. There was nothing else of note. He pocketed the slightly bulky, clearly outdated device with the intend of giving it to his commanders for intercepting the terrorists’ conversations. On his way back out, he brushed the capsule with his left hand absentmindedly, thinking about contacting his commanding officer again about the container and the communicator when it happened.

The container reacted to his touch. It hissed and groaned like a beast waking up from its slumber. Suzaku flinched and drew back, horrified at what he had done. The sphere seemed to be opening up, setting its dangerous content free! He may have just caused the deaths of thousands of people! No, no, no, he never meant to, he never would-! Why was this happening? How did he even open it, he barely touched it? It must have been jostled a lot already when the terrorists escaped with it, he realized. And now, he was finishing what they had started.

In his guilt and terror, Suzaku nearly missed the first rays of light escaping the formerly tightly sealed capsule. Then, he blinked and stared at the spectacle. This wasn’t quite was he had expected.  
It creaked pathetically one last time before the walls of the capsule fell apart completely, opening like a flower in bloom, nearly blinding him for a second.

The sight that greeted Suzaku’s eyes when he opened them again, he would never be able to forget in his life. It was not poison gas. Stunned, he could only take a step forward to catch the person falling out of their tight prison into his arms. It was a teenager, clad in a white straight jacket. The lanky black-haired boy scarcely weighted anything. He was thin, unnaturally so. His legs were too weak to support his weight and he was limp in Suzaku’s arms. Most likely drugged for the transport. What was the meaning of this? Was he a prisoner? What had been done to him? Suzaku carefully kneeled and lowered the boy carefully to the floor without jostling him too much. His eyes were closed, but his breathing suggested that he was awake.

From the way he was trying to lean in the opposite direction of Suzaku, he didn’t want to be touched. He had to be scared, Suzaku noted with dread. His stomach churned and twisted at the thought of why that would be the case. He never wanted anybody to fear him like this. It was wrong. No matter who he was, nothing could possibly justify what he was seeing. No human being should be stripped of their dignity and reduced to this. Least of all someone so young. Those delicate features belonged to a teenager of maybe eighteen years or less. 

Finally removing his gas mask and helmet with shaking hands, he tried to reassure the boy:  
“Hey, it’s all right now, I won’t hurt you. Don’t worry, I’ll get you to safety.”

Somehow, the boy looked familiar, like he had seen him before. When he tried to pet the boy’s soft black hair out of instinct, all the young soldier got was a frown and he could visibly see his body tensing under his hands. His heart clenched painfully. Immediately stopping his ministrations, he apologized softly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll open those straps now so you can move better, okay?”

He didn’t expect an answer, partially because the straight-jacked covered his mouth as well and silenced him effectively. Suzaku didn’t think he would have gotten an answer even if the strap over his mouth hadn’t prevented it. The way his limbs were fixated had to hurt after a while though. He would have to be careful not to pull on the muscles too much and cause him unnecessary further pain. Suzaku unzipped his legs, then his arms and finally the strap on his face, as that was the most intimate and vulnerable part. He smiled slightly at the nearly inaudible sigh of relief coming from the teenager as his arms slid to his sides.

“There you go!”, Suzaku exclaimed. Then he looked around, having temporarily forgotten where he was.

“We should probably get away from here though. Do you think you can walk?”, he asked more hushed, still not really expecting an answer. 

Drowsy purple eyes opened and looked at him from over the collar of the unfastened straight-jacked. With those royal colors staring into his own green eyes and the rest of the other boy’s face fully uncovered, Suzaku couldn’t help the gasp escaping his lips as he recognized who laid before him on the cold hard floor.

“Lelouch?”

Those purple eyes sharpened instantly, fixating on his face with the frightening intelligence and intensity Suzaku was used to when it came to Lelouch. Had it been possible, Suzaku would have believed Lelouch’s cold gaze had burned a hole right into his head to read his mind. He felt acutely aware of how his father must have felt when he met Lelouch years ago. His brother in all but blood had never had a reason to regard him as a threat before. He had seen him analyze and intimidate others with one look before, but to have it turned against him like this made him want to squirm in discomfort. It was just as wrong as seeing him drugged and forced into a straight-jacked. What on earth had happened to him that he ended up here?

He shouldn’t be wary of Suzaku, of all people. Lelouch was his big brother and the one he had always admired the most as a child, his idol whose expectations and trust in him he was trying his hardest never to disappoint. Just as he wanted to speak up again to clarify who he was and how he knew Lelouch – though he hoped his brother hadn’t completely forgotten about him – he was interrupted by the very same.

“Suzaku.” he breathed, eyes wide and disbelieving.

His voice sounded exactly the same as he remembered from eight years ago. When Suzaku thought about it, he looked the same as well. As if time hadn’t been able to touch him when it passed by, or someone had taken a picture from Suzaku’s memories and inserted it into the present. But maybe he had simply forgotten some details about his brother’s appearance over time. Lelouch could have merely aged well. What would Nunnally look like now? He shook his head, dismissing the thought for later. 

“Yeah, it’s me.”, Suzaku said, relieved that Lelouch remembered. “I never expected to see you again, and never like this…”

Releasing a quiet huff that could have been a laugh if the situation hadn’t been so harrowing, Lelouch commented: “Me neither. I’m glad to know you are all right. You’ve grown so much, Suzaku.”

His language was still a bit slurred, but not too much, he seemed to recover fast. It proved he was drugged though, Lelouch had always articulated and conducted himself in a very precise and sophisticated way. He tried to sit up and Suzaku quickly helped to steady him.

“Oh, I didn’t have too much trouble after we were separated, don’t worry about me.” Suzaku tried to reassure his friend and blushed slightly. _Unlike_ _you_.

Despite his avoidance of the sensitive topic, his friend seemed to know exactly what he didn’t say. The short silence between them was heavy and stiff, tinged with unease.  
Then, Lelouch sighed and resumed their conversation.

“You are in the Britannian military now?”, he asked, clearly consternated about his status as an Honorary.

There it was again, the weariness was creeping back into his eyes, accusing Suzaku silently. Traitor, they seemed to say, as clearly as his own countrymen screaming obscenities at him. It was more impactful coming from Lelouch since he wasn’t Japanese, nor truly saw himself as Britannian anymore. Yet, he had clearly suffered at their hands and had every right to loathe his country. They had used and abandoned him and Nunnally, and now it seemed they had even betrayed him further and dehumanized him, took his freedom and stomped on his rights. Some terrorist stole his friend when he was transported god knows where. He wasn’t even said to be a prisoner. No, he was treated like some valuable object, a commodity disguised as a weapon for the dogs of the military to retrieve without making a fuss.

Poison gas, sure. What did they even do to him? This was the first time Suzaku actually felt ashamed of his choice to become a Honorary Britannian. He couldn’t hold Lelouch’s gaze for long and looked away.

“I want to make a change…” he eventually tried to explain himself, but instantly hated how stupid and naïve he must sound to his friend. “I thought I could protect people this way, I swear I had no idea it was you in that container. We were told it was poison gas.” 

Lelouch nodded, having expected the cover story to be something less scandalizing, but still abominable by normal human standards. It was forbidden to create poison gas by international law after all. Not that Britannia cared about something so trivial when they reigned over a third of the world already.  
Then he looked around for the first time.

“Didn’t you say something about getting out of here…wherever we are?”, Lelouch questioned.

It was clear what he was actually asking, the tension in his body betrayed him when his voice didn’t. Idle chit-chat would put him at risk. This was the point where Suzaku needed to make his decision. Would he remain loyal to Britannia or betray them for Lelouch? The answer was clear, he didn’t even need to think about it for a second. He would do the right thing, there was only one option to him. His brother was more important than orders. 

“Somewhere under Shinjuku. Can you walk?”, he asked again, his voice firmer now.

Lelouch would detest being carried, even if it would be faster. The other had probably not been able to make decisions for himself when he was a prisoner and Suzaku didn’t want to treat him like an invalid. So, he would only do it if Lelouch asked or there was no other option.

“I think so.” As he thought. 

Lelouch slowly got to his feet with Suzaku’s help and leaned on him, though less heavily than before. His legs still weren’t quite steady, but with Szuaku as a crutch they could go faster.  
They began walking in the opposite direction from which Suzaku had come to avoid his fellow soldiers.

However, they barely took a few steps before they heard noises from up ahead. Footsteps, drawing closer. More than one pair, a lot of them in fact. Suzaku wanted to curse, but silence would benefit them far more. Lelouch had frozen beside him, he couldn’t even hear him breathe. Gesturing at the truck, Suzaku brought Lelouch behind the vehicle to where he wouldn’t be spotted immediately by the oncoming soldiers. Their eyes met one last time before Suzaku left to distract the enemy. The message exchanged couldn’t have been clearer if they had shouted it at each other. Be careful.

Suzaku put on his helmet again, rounded the truck and hastily walked up ahead to meet the soldiers halfway. In the dimly light he could only make out their red uniforms as he drew closer. He wanted to curse again. It was the Royal Guard. They spotted him at the same moment and raised their weapons until they saw his own cheap, grey uniform.

“I have found the truck, Sir!”, he called and stood to attention.

“Good.”, the guardsman said grudgingly. The grey sash on shoulder his shoulder designated him as the captain. “Show me where it is and report your findings.”

“Yes, Sir! The driver is dead, and the truck is unable to move. The gas capsule though…”, he started, trailing off at the end, stalling purposefully and hoping Lelouch could use those precious seconds to run or hide better. 

“What of it?”, the captain asked impatiently.

“It’s empty, Sir.”

“Empty! Impossible, what have you done, stupid Eleven, explain yourself this instant!”, the man roared, enraged, blaming the Eleven first. Unflinchingly, he bore the man’s wrath with an ease that spoke of experience.

“Sir, I didn’t open it.” _At least not deliberately._ “There was no poison gas anywhere.” _No, there wasn’t_ , he was telling the truth.

“It was empty?”

“It’s empty, Sir.” _Now._ “Sir, if I may ask, what was in the container if it wasn’t poison gas?”

“Damn monkey! Who do you think you are to question your superiors? An Honorary Britannian has no right to military secrets!” 

He gave no answer as none was expected. They reached the truck and the guardsmen saw the empty capsule themselves. For a second, the captain’s face contorted in fury before evening out again. He then turned to look at Suzaku and smiled cruelly, seemingly calm. Suzaku had a bad feeling about this.

“Under no circumstances can it become known that our…dangerous cargo was set free. We cannot take such a risk when it comes to the safety of Britannia. An Eleven like you can represent a great danger, you would leak this information to others of your kind. We have to prevent this from getting out, I’m sure you understand.”

A sick grin spread over the man’s face during his short patriotic speech, no doubt anticipating using the gun he had just pulled out on the ‘dirty Eleven’ in front of him. Suzaku had slowly pulled back towards the truck, trying to distance himself from the guard and covering his friend behind him, if he was still there. The guard knew it hadn’t been poison gas inside the capsule.

“Sir, I’m an Honorary Britannian! I don’t know what was in the capsule, but I won’t mention it again!”, he tried to reason. Knowing how weak his argument was, all he could do was to gain a few more seconds for Lelouch’s sake.

“Ah maybe, but how do they say? Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead. Or in this case, the Empire may keep a secret if all potential Eleven witnesses are dead. Consider it your last contribution to the glory of the Empire.”

Understanding that his death was inevitable, Suzaku let his shoulders drop. He closed his eyes and tried to think about something else than his own demise at the hands of the very same army he was part of. At least he had tried to walk a peaceful path and set a good example, even if his own life would end here. He wanted to die thinking of Lelouch and Nunnally. Had the former escaped already? Was she still alive? After they had gotten separated during the invasion, he had never heard of them again. He hadn’t even known whether they were alive. Reuniting with Lelouch after so many years had truly been a gift. It was sad that he would never know if Nunnally was still out there as well though, he wished he’d had the time to ask his friend. Suzaku could die in peace knowing he had done everything he could to save Lelouch. 

Gloating, the guardsman delivered his final words to the young man he had condemned. “The Honorary Britannian was still an Eleven at heart and it was discovered that he worked with the terrorists in the end to release our cargo, so we stopped and executed him for his crime. How does this cover sound? Believable enough, I think.”

Suzaku closed his eyes. He wasn’t in a deep, dark tunnel smelling of piss, about to be shot by the army he served. He was seeing-

_-Sunflowers, he was standing in a field of sunflowers. The sky was bright, the air was filled with laughter. His own. Lelouch was playing with his younger siblings-_

-The safety of a gun was switched off-

- _Chasing him. Nunnally was there too, Lelouch carried her on his shoulders. She giggled, putting her hands over her big brother’s eyes. Lelouch was mock-complaining about her outrageous behavior when-_

-A gunshot rang through the air, echoing loudly in his ears-

“No, not him!”

And then he was suddenly pushed aside. He was stumbling, catching himself, but there was no pain. The sunflowers of his memory disappeared instantly as he opened his eyes to reality.  
As if in slow motion, he saw the bullet hitting Lelouch’s forehead dead center. His brother was standing where he had been a mere second ago. His arm was still outstretched, his head snapped backwards forcefully. Blood hit Suzaku’s cheek. Lelouch’s body hit the floor beside him, dead.  
Suzaku couldn’t comprehend what just happened.

A halo of crimson blood formed around dark black hair. Lifeless purple eyes stared at him. His mouth was slightly open, a perpetual expression of shock was etched into his features.  
His brother was dead. Lelouch had sacrificed himself for him! Why, it would only give him a few more minutes to live at best! He couldn’t escape those soldiers, there were too many of them an no place to hide apart from the damned truck. Honoraries weren’t allowed to carry a gun, he had no way to fight back. He was powerless.

And now, his brother was dead.

His stomach dropped. Vertigo hit. He couldn’t look away. Those dead eyes burned themselves into memory. It was his fault. Unaware of his surroundings, his feet gave out under him as his body went numb. Dimly registering that he was starting to hyperventilate, he crawled to Lelouch’s side.

“Lelouch, why?” he chocked, more to himself than the audience.

The murderer answered regardless. “Well, that was unexpected. Our orders were to bring him back alive if possible. Now we will have to say the subject was shot by the terrorists before we arrived at the scene.”

Suzaku couldn’t avert his gaze from his friend’s prone form, but he knew he would follow him to the afterlife now. They would lie side by side in death, how neat. Such inane, fatalistic thoughts were far from the sunflowers Suzaku had wanted to envision. The captain was aiming at him again when suddenly he felt someone touching him. Startled, he caught a glimpse of his supposedly dead friend’s hand encircling his wrist with his long, pale fingers and gripping it tightly.

He had no time to wonder about how this was possible because the world around him disappeared, accompanied by the abrupt, disconcerting sensation of falling through nothing. He floated in a sea of absolute darkness. All sound was abruptly cut off, he was completely isolated. Was he dead? An invisible force seemed to carry him downwards – was it downwards, he couldn’t tell – like bands of willpower made manifest encircled his limbs, weighing him down, ensnaring him. They were soft and warm though, familiar somehow. Then he heard a voice ringing in his head, and it became clear why.

“Suzaku!”

The voice belonged to Lelouch. It seemed he really was dead. If that was the case, he was glad to be with Lelouch at least and not alone. He had to ask his friend why he hadn’t run away when he’d had the chance though. He was supposed to be much smarter than him and he must have known Suzaku had no way out and his sacrifice was in vain.

Multiple colors were melding into each other all around him, filling the void. They crisscrossed in fascinating patterns, like thousands of tree-branches, or perhaps overlapping circuit-boards, in a web of incredible complexity. The pull on his body lessened.

“You aren’t dead, Suzaku.”, Lelouch’s deep voice stated dryly, as if he had read his thoughts. Confused, Suzaku looked around. The colors were fading into white now. All of a sudden, without further warning, he was left standing in an endless white plain. The change of position was jarring and left him a little disorientated.

“Lelouch?”, he called hesitantly.

“I’m here!”, the answer came from behind him.

Suzaku whirled around. There he was, looking unblemished and unruffled like nothing had happened at all.

“You- I- where are we? Aren’t you dead? Why am I not dead?”

Lelouch smiled patiently at his stammered questions, like he had always done when Suzaku was small. “We are in my mindscape, I pulled you in because we need to talk.”

“But I saw- You are dead.”

“Yes, right now I am. Luckily I still managed to move my arm a bit to touch you. It’s far easier to establish a connection this way.”, Lelouch’s explanation didn’t actually explain anything and Suzaku only felt more confused than before.

“Okay, but you are dead.”

“You can’t get over that fact, can you? It’s just a temporary inconvenience, don’t worry about me.” Lelouch was still smiling calmly, as though he hadn’t just asked Suzaku why he couldn’t get over his own murder. This trauma would take some time to heal. If he wasn’t so glad Lelouch was here, he would be a little irritated at the assumption that he could simply forget about his friend being shot in the head right in front of him.

“I don’t understand.”, Suzaku said at last, honestly.

“I know, I will explain it when you have a little more time. For now, you need to know that this is real, and I want to help you.”

“Help me, how?” Fine, he would set his questions regarding his friend aside and focus on the relevant ones.

Lelouch’s demeanor instantly became serious. He offered his open palm to Suzaku and stated:  
“I’m offering you a contract, the contents of which are the following: I shall grant you a power, to save your life, to truly make an impact in history, to initiate real change.”

Images were flashing by all around the two of them, dizzying him in their increasing speed. The horizon between two dark planets enlightened by a shared sun. A crowd of people with a strange bird-like symbol on their heads. Chess pieces. The black king, the white knight. Some were so fast he could only see colorful lights passing him by.

“Accept this contract, and while you live in the world of humans, you will live unlike any other. A different providence, a different time, a different life. The Power of Kings will isolate you, are you prepared for it?”

A strange world came into being around them. Those planets again, but now they were standing on one of them. There was the Emperor of Britannia, looking just like he did in his public speeches. An imposing figure clad in fine robes and a permanent scowl etched into his features. 

“In return, I will ask you to fulfill a wish of mine.”, Lelouch continued, unfazed.

The Emperor was saying something about a myth and a ‘Ragnarök Connection’. Suzaku’s head hurt. What did those images and terms even mean? Why was he seeing this-?

“Do you agree to those conditions?”, the offer was concluded. The pictures immediately stopped flowing. 

Suzaku thought about it. The power to change the world, what could it possibly be? How would Lelouch give it to him? Who was he to make such an offer, _what_ was he? A demon? What was his wish?  
He wanted to ask, and yet, at the same time, he knew that the answers wouldn’t truly influence his decision enough to make a difference. Trust in Lelouch, he could easily give. The actual question was rather simple in the end. Did he want a chance to fulfill his goal? Could he accept a senseless death over the possibility of doing something useful with his life? _If he died while trying to achieve the freedom of his people, maybe it wouldn’t feel so empty._

“Yes, I hereby accept the terms of your contract!”

Their hands clasped tightly, Suzaku could feel the bonds of the contract forming and tightening around him, like gears locking into place perfectly. An invisible strand of two wishes metaphysically connecting them. It felt foreign, but not intrusive. The wings of a butterfly against skin, beating slower, fluttering like a comforting heartbeat echoing in the back of his mind. Knowledge tickled through the connection and with it came a well of untapped power. Suzaku looked up in wonder. Smiling one last time at his little brother, Lelouch let go of his hand.

“I’m glad.”, he repeated his words from earlier. “Now go, you have your execution to survive!”

With those final words, he pushed him through the endless black void again. It went by much faster now that he wasn’t resisting the pull.

Gasping, he found himself in the outside world again without delay. The dark tunnel materialized around him. Lelouch’s hand fell to the floor, limp and lifeless. He was still dead. The same expression was visible on his face, the same bullet hole in his forehead, the same amount of blood drying around him. Suzaku’s stomach still churned at the sight. His head felt like he had banged it against the wall repeatedly and his left eye burned. He knew why. The Power of the King was coursing through it, channeling it and marking him for the world to see. Geass.

He just hoped this entire surreal encounter was real and Lelouch would come back from the dead. Suzaku would have laughed hysterically at this ridiculous thought, but there was still something he needed to do. The guardsmen were standing there in the same position they had before. Time seemed to have stopped for a moment when he met Lelouch on the mental plane. But now it was running again.

Suzaku stood from his crouch, confidently addressing the guard whose weapon was aimed at his heart. “How can a Number rise above their powerlessness and truly make a change in this world?”

He kept his head down, not yet looking away from his friend. His question took the soldiers off guard.

Snorting in contempt, the captain indulged him with an answer: “They can’t. They have lost, and the weak will always be suppressed by the strong. The Britannian Empire’s might is based on that principle.”

“You are wrong.”, Suzaku contradicted him, raising his head at last. His eye burned. The Power of the King rose to the surface and broke free from the constraints of his mind as he used it to take hold of its first victims. He felt it spreading out like a wave, washing over the guards and enveloping their minds in an unbreakable hold, ready to mold them to his will. Shuddering, he swept aside the sweet pleasure that came with the feeling of holding so much power over those who tormented him and his people. 

“Weak or strong, it doesn’t matter! If we all worked together, Numbers, Britannians, all the peoples of this world, we could make it a better place. You should just accept people as people. Please, stop hurting others for your own gain!”, the words burst out of him like a dam was broken, “You don’t have any reason to shoot me, let me go and accept your own failure!”

The man’s stance relaxed; his companion’s faces went slack as well. Red rimmed their eyes as a content, almost serene smile replaced the former sneer. Their voices sounded eager and compliant as they replied to voice their agreement almost in unison.

“Of course.”  
“You are right.”  
“All people are equal.”  
“You haven’t done anything wrong.”  
“Please take your leave now.” 

Feeling slightly sick and yet strangely invigorated, as if he had accomplished a great and terrible deed, Suzaku picked up Lelouch’s body from the floor and walked away. He didn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel the need to apologize somehow...This wasn't intended to be a OS and I have written some more, but it's been sitting on my computer for so long now and I don't know whether I will find the time and motivation to finish it, tbh, so I'm cutting it short here. Tell me if you'd like to read more of it and maybe I'll gain back my drive. I'm aware there are some similar fics and I hope that my take wasn't too unoriginal. Feel free to comment on anything you want. Though please let's stay civil and not leave flames. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Any of you who want to know about the Geass can read my thoughts on it below and those of you who want to leave it to their own imagination or wait for the story to progress one day can just stop reading here. 
> 
> Suzaku’s Geass of Absolute Acceptance: An area effect type Geass. It doesn’t require eye contact and doesn’t have a limited amount of times to use it on a single person. The strength depends on how often he has used it on the same person already. Weaker Geass orders can fade with time. The power of his Geass allows him to make other people accept everything he says as the truth and a given fact, be it his ideals or other, more simple things. He can also force people to accept one another and therefore influence their feelings and relationships. The reaction coming from this acceptance however is something beyond Suzaku’s control. If he forces someone to accept Numbers as people with equal rights, they can still choose to do nothing to help them even if they might empathize with them now.  
> ‘Good’ applications would be: to accept oneself and others, to reconcile enemies and stop conflicts from arising, to accept the death of a loved one to move on, to make someone believe you even if they have no inclination to, to prevent criminals from escaping, to bring someone to justice, to give someone their freedom back or free them of their past…  
> ‘Darker’ applications of this Geass could be: to force someone to acknowledge one’s impending death as inevitable, to accept any kind of treatment from another person or one’s own position as a slave, to believe anything the other says as the absolute truth, no matter how twisted it might be or how one might feel about it,...  
> If this Geass ever evolves, it would be impossible to turn it off anymore and Suzaku would have to be very careful about how he formulates his sentences, so others wouldn’t automatically accept everything he says as the truth.  
> The irony behind it is that Suzaku can’t even accept himself. He drowns in guilt and self-hatred ever since he killed his father. He also wants to change people not by a magical power, but by truly convincing them of his ideals so they accept change of their own free will. Thus, he uses his power only very sparingly.


End file.
